Dres takes a different approach, deciding to change the subject. "So is everyone staying the night?" he asks, sounding distracted.

     I nod my head against his shoulder. "Yep. Got two guest rooms. Sofia and Maddox will be sharing the bed with me. I've been looking forward to it all week."

     He laughs. "Sounds ideal."

     I rest my eyes, very content to lie against Dres. He's emitting warmth like a steam train, making him all the more cozy. "Don't fall asleep," he says after I've been quiet for too long.

     "I'm not," I say, forcing my eyes back open. They close a second later.

     "You are," Dres says and then he's moving, forcing a few inches between us.

     "That's not very nice."

     "You were falling asleep," he responds, like it's a crime to be tired.

     "I'm thoroughly spent."

     "Well, whose fault is that?"

     I refrain from pouting. "You're not nice."

     Dres frowns. "Look who's talking."

     I'm at a crossroad, finding this whole exchange both highly amusing and arousing. How I can even be aroused at this level of exhaustion is beyond me. "I would've invited you, you know. If I thought we could get away with both of us disappearing."

     "That is not—." Dres shakes his head, flustered. "I'm going to punch you if you don't stop."

     I start to say, or want to say, "Stop what, Dres? Turning you on?" but I don't get the chance because Amelia's overheard him.

     "Hey, violence is not the answer," she calls from behind us. I've all but forgotten she's in the room. Apparently, Dres has, too, because he jumps and shifts on the couch uncomfortably. His jaw is tense. His whole body is, actually. I drag my eyes down to his lap and Dres is hard. I'm turning Dres on with just with my words alone. I'm a magician. Maybe not a very nice one, but a magician, nonetheless.

     I slide back over to him, leaning my chin on his shoulder. When he turns his head, our faces are too close not to be kissing. I pull back some, because that little space calls all of my self control into question. "Are you mad at me?"

     He leans towards me like maybe he'll kiss me but shakes his head, instead.

     I reach over, squeezing his knee as I say, "Okay, I'll be good now."

     "Good. There's a toddler present, you know."

     I look over at Maddox and he's smashed Finn and Poe's heads together like they're making out. I'm actually nearly positive they are most definitely kissing. "They are so impressionable," I say and Dres laughs, quietly.

     Now that our attention is on Maddox, he turns, looking over at us. "Cas, can we have a dance party?"

     "I don't know. It's getting late and your sisters are asleep upstairs."

     Dres is grinning before he speaks, which somehow presents itself as a bad sign. "Cas is only saying that because he can't dance."

     Maddox laughs a little too enthusiastically. Dres is not that funny. Or funny at all, really. "Can you dance Dres?"

     Amelia goes, "Can Dres dance? Dres has won talent shows for his dancing."

     Both my eyebrows go up. "Talent shows?" I question. Dres shrugs like it's nothing. "Dresden Gibson, stoic of stoicism, has been in talent shows? I think, I think we have to see this talent show winning dance. I think it's necessary for survival. Like my survival, that is."

     Dres glares at Amelia. "If memory recalls, you danced it with me."

     My gaze darts between the two of them. "Wow, okay, a duet. Yeah, no, I've got to see this."

     I move from the couch, walking back through the dining room to the kitchen to grab my speaker. Mom, grandma, Dolores, and Suki are sitting at the island drinking coffee. I can see pop and Uncle Dan through the sliding door, standing outside on the back porch. They like to share a cigar when they're together. Don't know why cause the things smell awful. I doubt they taste any good.

     Whatever conversation is occurring between the women, it stops when I enter. Mom forces a smile and says, "What're you doing, sweetheart?"

     I glance around the kitchen, suspiciously. "Dres and Amelia are going to show us this dance of theirs," I respond slowly. "What're you doing?"

     "Oh, that sounds nice, let's watch," grandma says before mom responds. It's not at all subtle, but I decide to let it go.

     They follow me back into the living room. I set the speaker on the fireplace and then open my Spotify account. "What song?" I ask Amelia.

     "Here, I'll put it on." She holds out her hand and I pass my phone to her.

     Amelia starts playing Come On Eileen. A solid ass dancing song. I would expect no less from Dres. Amelia grabs Dres's hands, pulling him to his feet. He, notably, doesn't put up that much of a fight. Maddox is up in a second, doing this sway-wiggle-bounce thing that only kids can get away with as dancing. I fall back onto the couch, lifting my leg up so I can lean my arm on my knee and watch.

     Suki sits down beside me and leans into my side, saying, "He's a very good dancer."

     I nod, because I can't really speak. I'm too focused on not losing my mind over Dres dancing to this song. Dres moves like water, like this is exactly what his muscles were made for, which seems contradictory. Someone with his stature shouldn't be capable of moving that gracefully, and yet, somehow, he does. He defies all logic. Always has, I think. Since the day I met him.

     Amelia grabs Maddox, spinning him around with Dres. Maddox is loving it, especially when Dres lifts him up in the air. Before I know it, Aunt Suki and my mom and Dolores are dancing with them. Grandma's in the armchair, and she gives a shake of her head mumbling, "My knees don't move like they used to."

     Dres sets Maddox down, smiling bigger than anything I've ever seen before and looks dead at me. I start shaking my head, slowly at first. He reciprocates by nodding his head vigorously. I shake my head more defiantly now, mouthing "no" over and over, but he grabs my hands, anyway, and pulls me up with him.

     "You know I can't dance," I say as he spins me around.

     "Sure you can," he responds, still smiling. There is something about music and dancing that just does it for Dres. It lights him up, makes him warm, makes him radiant. "Maybe not very well."

     I think he's trying to make a jab but it doesn't land since its the truth. "There's no maybe. Definitely not very well."

     Dres doesn't care that I can't dance, spinning me again, and pulling on my arms so I'll loosen up. I move off beat and awkwardly to the last of the song but I stop noticing. It's hard to hang onto what I can't do when I'm with Dres like this because it starts to feel like I can do anything. Like I'll live to a thousand, and we'll travel the world together, and adopt a bunch of kids, and be together till we die.

     These are the kinds of thoughts that wind me. That I'll never voice. Because they feel both possible and impossible at the same time. Like I know, without a shadow of doubt, that I'll never feel about anyone else the way I feel about Dres. And knowing that makes me think how could we not be together always. But if I voiced this aloud, I'd hear how absurd it all sounds. So its only possible when it stays inside my head and if I let even an ounce of it out, it becomes impossible.

     When the song ends, I think that I can slink away, but Dres hasn't let go of my hands. Spotify starts playing through my saved music. I keep my songs organized by most recent, which wouldn't be a problem except I recently went on a binge of saving songs I've heard at Private Weston's. So naturally, Elvis Presley's rendition of Can't Help Falling in Love starts playing.

     Dres is giving me this look that sets all my nerves on fire. I raise a finger threateningly, saying as sharp and quietly as I can, "I swear to god if you try to slow dance with me right now in front of my whole family I will defenestrate you."

     His look is challenging as he grabs a handful of my sweater and pulls me to him. "Defenestrate?" he asks as he snakes an arm up my back and starts swaying like there's nothing unusual about this.

     "Throw you out a window," I explain. His other hand has found its way to the small of my back and mine have moved to his shoulders on their own volition.

     "That's very romantic."

     "I try."

     We're still swaying even after the song ends. I'm not looking anywhere but at Dres. As the next song starts, I remember just how much of his music I've actually saved to my library recently. I go still, dreading what's coming next. This one's Earth Angel. He wasn't really supposed to ever find out about this.

     I'm resting my head on his shoulder and he tucks his chin down so he can say in my ear, "You know you can't complain about my music taste ever again, now, right?"

     "Listen," I say pulling away. I've been preparing my counter argument this whole time. "I have to hear all these songs every day. The repitition has forced me the like them. It's practically Pavlovian."

     Dres rolls his eyes. "Right. Pavlovian."

     Amelia has my phone in her hand and skips the song. Every Breath You Take starts playing and I'm ready to defenestrate myself when Uncle Dan enters the living room and says, "Cards in the dining room!"

     I raise an eyebrow at Dres. He's looking at me all soft-eyed, so fondly I have to grit my teeth against anything stupid I might say. Leave it to Dres to get all sentimental about me stealing his songs.

     "You wanna play?" I ask.

     He shrugs so I take that as a yes. Uncle Dan picks up Maddox, who's found a spot on the couch and has started falling asleep, and carts him out of the room.

     "I should warn you," I tell Dres as we walk into the dining room. "I'm hella good."

     "I thought we talked about hella," he responds as he takes a seat across from me at the dining table.

     Amelia sits down beside me and slides her phone my way so I can look at the screen. It's playing a video of Dres and I slow dancing. I knew someone was going to get footage.

     "Your sister has a video of us," I tell Dres, pushing the phone in his direction so he can see. He glances at it and then up at Amelia, his expression wary.

     She grins, clearly unfazed. "I'll send it to you if you want."

     Dres glares at her. "You can send it to me and I'll send it to him."

     Amelia pouts. "You're no fun."

     I look between them, questioningly. "Did you want my number or something?"

     "You're not giving her your number."

     I stare at him wide-eyed, mostly amused by the situation, and mouth 'okay, fifty shades.' He gives me a look that says 'really?' I shrug. "If the coveralls fit." This time he glares at me.

     "I'm starting to think you've actually read the books," he says and whatever my face does makes him add, "You have, haven't you?"

     "Read what?" Amelia asks, glancing between us questioningly.

     "Nothing," I say quickly.

     Dres answers, "Fifty Shades of Grey."

     "Ew," Amelia says.

     "I didn't read it. I only saw the movie and it was Grace's choice."

     "Uh huh," Dres says, disbelievingly.

     Amelia's laughing as she says, "Is it always like this between you two?"

    I'm saying "Yes," as Dres glowers at Amelia and not for the first time and certainly not the last, I find myself praying that it'll always be like this. But I can't help thinking that everything, especially good things, always come to an end and almost always too soon.